From Deeply before
by MollyLollie7
Summary: "It was sorta crazy. Out of nowhere, this guys comes and tells me that I'm some sort of country-person. I mean, that's crazy, isn't it? It's impossable and just plain stupid. My name is Alfred Foster Jones, NOT whoever Mr America is supost to be. The guys is crazy!" I told her. She was the only one who agreed with me. But even the best things in life have to change for all of us.
1. lose before knots are tied - Prologue

**"Go on, shoot. You know you can't do it." - Prologue**

**(Third person)**

The busy, main road pub was like it had always been for many years prior. Busy, noisy, a typical Saturday night. A few sports fans watching an on-going hockey game. Friends going out drinking together. A few young men flirting with other girls. Teenagers trying alcohol for the first time, just the usual. But tonight of all nights, something was drastically different. For today, the mass of pub goers weren't centred around a sports game, their friends, possible future lovers, or the first taste of a salty beverage. Everyone that night was paying attention to the two young, blond men standing at gun point in the middle of the messy room.

"Go on, do it," the younger, cow-licked teen boldly said as the small yet deadly weapon was pushed deeper into his fast beating, large-for-his-age chest. It didn't matter how this all began anymore, quite frankly, no one really knew how the situation had come to such an extreme at all, but, if someone was at gunpoint I know anyone would be more concerned about how to stop a shooting than wanting to know why this was even happening in the first place.

"Come on dude. Is it really that hard?" the teen swallowed and coxed boldly.

The slightly older English-looking man just clenched his teeth in a blindly aggressive way. _Could he do it? Shoot a complete stranger? Someone he had never meet before? He could do it, end a stranger's life, but how could he? Sure it would be easy, but why would he? He had already gotten this far by pointing a loaded gun at someone's chest, so why stop now?_ Dark, distorted and very confused thoughts filled the messy-haired Brit.

He had the inhuman urge to shoot the stranger, despite his own morals screaming at him not to do so.

The younger man took a deep breath in. "Go on, shoot. You know you can't do it," he said calmly with his soft, light blue eyes showing though his fresh sadness. Was he crazy? No, they both where, and they needed to stop now before anyone was hurt.

The tension in the air was becoming unbearable.

_There's no way I can shoot you. I can't!_ came a daunting, unclear delusion. God, of all times, why start up again with those stupid day dreams? The British man was branded crazy as it was, but today showed just how high the scale of crazy was going to have to be.

But despite of everything, the other people in the pub trying to stop him, the screams and shouts, his very own morals and thoughts screaming at him, he shoved the cold weapon deeper into the teen's chest. He held his breath and finally pulled the warm trigger.

The loud, echoing sound of a gunshot erupted, breaking the atmosphere of the night-time tavern.

An overwhelming satisfying feeling of a long awaited revenge filled the guilty man. He hated every blip of it. This boy was a complete stranger, so why was he so compelled to end his life? The older man just stood there staring at the now lifeless teen at his feet waiting for the reason to cry. Waiting for the guilt to finally overthrow him.

Yet it somehow never came. The British man felt like some form of demonic, unholy monster.

A short, dark-haired Asian-looking man ran out-side clenching something on his ear. Was he calling 9-1-1? Good call. Other that slight movement, either to get closer to the body or the leave the pub entirely, everyone was completely silent as they wondered what the best thing to do would be. Most of the people there just stood there in utter shock. None more apparent than the shaken, thick-eye browed man clenching a smoking gun in his flickering left hand.

_Why? Dammit, why?! It's not fair!_he mentally screamed. This didn't sound at all like his own thoughts. Where were they coming from?

"Pull yourself together," he said quietly still shaken as he loosely dropped the gun on the floor. He had done it, hadn't he? He really was crazy. "You can't put it of any longer. You really are crazy," he declared to himself.

Some poor person began to cough violently. Who was it? And more importantly, given the situation, did it really matter to anyone? There was a dead body coughing up blood and no one seems to- wait a moment... What is he doing? Everyone was staring at the blood body in the middle of the room. _How was he doing this? Wasn't he just shot?_No one in the room knew what to do. Everyone _saw_him get shoot. A wound like that should leave him completely immobilized at the very least. He should not be able to even move, let alone be able to sit in some form of a backwards morphed push-up position coughing up a dangerously large amount of dark blood. Some thing was definitely out of place here. Definitely.

"Bloody hell Arthur!" the teen wimped out, "That was a bit much don't ya think?!"

His voice sounded off. Not a wrong or bad off, but a healthy, almost healed off. It sounded like it had far too much life in it. Nothing seemed to match with him anymore. What seemed to stand out the most in his speech was the small breath hitch as he shouted 'think'. It wasn't an 'oh-I-just-remembered-something-important' hitch or an 'I've-just-told-you-something-I-shouldn't-have' hitch or even an 'I've-failed-at-trying-not-to-say-something-stupid' hitch, or maybe it was; they all seem to sound the same. No, this was an 'I-just-shared-a-piece-of-information-with-everybody-that-I-didn't-even-know-I-knew' hitch. That was quiet the rare one.

"Arthur?" The British man quietly repeated the dying man's words. "W-why a-are you still able to speak?! And how do you know my name? Who the bloody hell ARE you?!" he rapidly asked, letting his fear take over.

The teen just lay there trying to catch his breath. "You don't know who I am?" He asked with notable concern in his voice.

"I...I don't know." The older man said as he stood in silence. He looked down at his dying victim, yet he still didn't feel the need to cry. He still could not believe what he had done. He had... shot someone. Someone he didn't even know. ...Or did he? Why did the person know his name? Who _was_ he? All these questions were racing though the Brit's head and speech.

Besides that, the teen was trying very hard to comprehend what the heck was even happening. "I should be dead," he mumbled to himself. "Then why aren't I?" He was right. He _should_be. But against everything somehow he wasn't. The situation was becoming far too much for anyone to handle. Not a single person in the crowd could seem to move, yet a younger girl in her early teens managed to get though the stricken people. At least someone was brave enough to intervene.

The teen's breathing pattern soon went back to normal as he sat, well attempted to sit there blood-covered and in a quiet daze. He tried to get up using the girl as an aid. He stumbled, and fell back down. In the next moment, he struggled to take of his well-aged, brown jacket that was now made even heavier with the weight of his own blood. The sound of two sirens began to grow louder as they seemed to get closer. As they got closer, it was easier to tell what the two cars were: a police car and an ambulance by the look of it. The drivers came just in time to see two young men covered in blood yelling at each other. The two paramedics came to the teen's aid with medical tools in hand. They sat him down. The teen forced the remainder of his large brown jacket off. A tall blond police officer came towards the alleged 'Arthur'.

Now he knew it was too late. The police had already appeared. Once again, he looked down at the stranger he had shot at. _What is wrong with me? What did I do?! He hadn't done anything to me... or __did __he?! _These questions and many more were racing through his mind.

He looked like a very serious type of person. He gave an angry, disgusted look at the traumatised Brit standing before him. He took out a new-looking red notebook and began to write something down. There was a large amount of commotion and noise going on behind him yet he didn't seem at all fazed. 'Arthur' didn't dare look over the tall officer's shoulder to see what was going on, even though he was curious too. He was in enough trouble as it was already.

"Zhis is not very good," the officer mumbled to himself in an accented voice. Every few seconds he would look from writing to briefly study his surroundings. His eyes finally trailed towards the floor next the Brit where the gun now lay. His blue eyes narrowed and let them pierce though his subject. He wasn't very amused.

The European man held his breath and swallowed hard. He wanted to say something in his defence, but what? "I-I" He tried to state only to be quickly cut off.

"Save it. No one 'ear wants to hear it," the police officer stopped him sounding annoyed. He had heard it all before.

Something drastic was definitely happening towards the centre of the pub. It was kinda hard to tell what was going on, but it sounded as if a fight was just about to break out. A very loud one at that. A distant "Hey! come back!" could he heard. The tall officer began to twitch momentarily. He looked up with annoyed and tired eyes, the eyes you have just before you yell or scold at someone. He held his head up and listened for a moment. He bit his lip and took a deep breath in and turned around.

"Vhat is going on?" He asked/yelled at the sight before him. 'Arthur' looked around also.

"He, he-" One of the uniformed man attempted to stutter out.

"Vhat?"

"H-he just ran away!" the confused paramedic said repeating himself to the bland police officer.

"….Who?" The police officer said with slow-growing yet still near lost concern in his voice.

"T-the patient! He just, just _ran_ away!" the young, shaken man replied not even believing his own actions. He had a point though. All that was in front of him was a messy patch of blood. There should have been a body there.

The police officer looked at him without a second look. "How? Was-I-isn't he dead?"

"APPARENTLY NOT!" The second, older paramedic replied painting loudly as he let out a previously hidden sarcastic look.

Without a word from anyone, the British man walked slowly to where the teen's body had previously been. "Whoever he is," he said with no-one stopping him, "This boy definitely isn't a normal one... I'm sure by that. How can he run? RUN?! He... just disappeared... like... POOF and then gone. He should be dead by now." The man sighed. "Is he still running? God, is that boy trying to kill himself?" He asked himself half hoping to get some sort of an answer.

"Thank you Sherlock," the police officer said after only half paying attention to what had just said. "It's far too early in the frigging' morning for me," he sighed.

"It's still night-time, sir," the first and ginger haired paramedic said trying not to sound rude.

The police officer just gave an aggravated look. "You know what I mean," he stated bluntly.

The ginger paramedic picked up and closely examined the discarded jacket that had been left on the cold ground. It was …weird. It was made of tough leather and could have easily been decades old. It looked like it had been stained with someone's blood ages ago, before today that was. It was also very dry, far too dry to have just been worn by the same person who owned it.

'Arthur' was quite surprised to see it detail close-up. "So how come it's already dry... how interesting. Does that mean that his blood could have dried already? Is this even his own blood? And if so, how could it have started to fade already? That, that would mean that he wound could already be healed, right?" He asked the people in fount of him.

The policeman gave an 'are-you-trying-to-cover-yourself-up?' sort of look and simply replied with an "I don't know," after finally hearing him fully.

"... No." the Brit quietly replied. "I've meet some pretty strange people in my time, but that boy truly is strange." The Brit couldn't stop thinking about him. The strange young man, who somehow also knows him, that had just disappeared, even though he had just been shot. _Will he return? Will I ever see him again?_ 'Arthur' felt quite stunned even thinking that.

"Looks like it," the second medic said as the remaining pub goers crowded around the front entrance of the pub. It was kind of hard to make out what was going on, but it looked like everyone was standing around something being held up by a few other people. Was it the teen? It looked like it, but it was incredibly hard to tell.

The police officer (followed by the second medic) tried very hard to get though the rowdy crowd that was gathering around the doorway. As both got closer and as the drunken crowd grew louder and more chaotic, people began to grow impatient. "Who was he?" _What _was he?" "Is he okay?" It seemed that no one knew the answers to any of these questions. Everyone seemed to want answers, and it looked like they were not going to stop at anything to find out who the two men in question were.

But, just take a moment to realise what it was like for the poor young, blond man that night. If he were to know what was going to happen, would he have tried to stop it? If he could, yes. Like anyone normal, he would have fought ages ago.

"This was all a bloody set-up. He must have... God I don't know anything anymore..." He cursed under his limited breath. He didn't even know any of them, so why must they of acted so irrationally towards him? It just didn't make any sense. If they wanted revenge for something, there were surely much better, cleaner, and easier ways to do it. They could have told him something prior, without all these newly accumulated ones, one example would be what the hell was even happening to _him_. He felt the pain, he collapsed on the floor in a pool of his of blood and within a few minutes, he was okay enough to run. _Run_. He didn't even know how he did it, just the nagging urge to get away from everyone and everything as fast as possible. That can be quite difficult when you are no more than a murder victim.

The teen, still surrounded by the crowd, began to cough up dark, almost black clotted blood. He was quickly dropped by the two hockey fans and fell to the ground. He couldn't stop bleeding from his mouth and coughing, and he just sat there bleeding out of his mouth with a large lump in his throat. It was only a few moments before it surfaced. The teen fell over to all-fours and coughed out a dying sound. He began to choke as he franticly tried to breathe. By third time, the second paramedic had managed to come beside him for his aid. He took out a large, white cloth, a hanky of some form, and held it to the teens face. He positioned his body so it would be easier to cough.

The teen gaged, and spat something into the now red hankie. He stopped coughing, lifted whatever it was off his tongue and held it away from himself. The room went silent he tried to catch his breath. First a pant, then back to a normal breathing pattern. He dropped the hankie onto the bloody floor, and looked with a hateful look directly at a taller, dark-haired man standing at the front of the crowd.

The British man saw all of this unfolding in front of him. With every passing moment he began to feel worse. He much of asked himself why so many times it wasn't even funny anymore. He began to hate himself even more for what he had done. "This boy is about to die because of me," he recalled to himself. Why? Why did he just _want_ to do it? Then it struck him. _Since everyone was facing the young boy, I could just walk away_ he thought to himself. Thinking about it, he really had no need to stay. _No_, he thought to himself. _That wouldn't be right_. It would be easy, and he didn't want to get arrested, but how could he? That would just make it worse.

The British looking man forced himself to stay put. He was storming though his head different excuses to what he had done. "God... I really am crazy..." he said quietly to himself. There was no use denying it now. There was just something about him. Something, just different about him. It was like he knew him... But 'Arthur' was certain that they had never met in his life. Then just…. why?

A longer haired man from deep within the noisy crowd looked right at him. Avoiding eye contact, the British man looked down and shut his eyes tightly. It wouldn't have made any difference really.

The person looked him up and down and sighed. "You've done it now Art," he said quietly not believing his eyes.

Across the room, the teen was sitting on the floor with the two medics at either side. He was giving a full-hearted death-stare to the older man. The older man looked around to see if the teen was looking at something else, quickly realising that it was for him, mouthed back a slow 'I didn't do this.'

_Yeah right_, the teen thought with a roll in his sleepy, pink eyes. _He__had__to of have something to do with this_.

It all seemed like the perfect way to get revenge on someone that had truly done the worst.

The older man pushed through the crowd. "Alfred," he said in a hurt tone of voice as he tried to speak up, to prove his claim of innocence.

The teen looked up. "Don't touch me," he quietly snarled as the older man got closer. He had had enough now. He grit his teeth and got ready for an argument, or a fight.

"If I..." The older man said with his voice trailing off.

"If you could what?" the teen interrupted. "Do it cleaner? Have fewer witnesses? What?!" He yelled as he fought off the two young men at either side of his bloody body. The older man stumbled back when the teen lunged right at him. He pushed the teen away, having him land on the floor with a painful 'omph.'

"You'd think that I'd do this to you?" He asked almost sarcastically though his bored, southern accent.

The teen forced his head up only to enforce a "Yes. Yes I do, you liar!"

The older man looked betrayed. "You think that I would kill you?!" the older man, also almost to the point of screaming, replied in almost complete disbelief. _How could Alfred even think that_? He thought to himself as the teen stared at him, taking deep, aggressive breaths. _Weren't we friends...?_ His thoughts trialled off as he remembered what the teen was for him all those years ago. They were close enough to almost be brothers. Now look at the pair. This really wasn't the Alfred that he had known for all those long years.

The teen forced himself up and reached out to grab the worn-out collar of the older man's shirt, making his stumble slightly backwards. Everyone froze. The tall police officer tried to separate the two men but the teen appeared too strong. "Blood hell...THEN EX-FUCKING-PLAIN THIS!?" he shouted blindly.

The older man through him down for the second time, only this time he didn't hold back on force. The teen didn't hesitate to strike back. In the same moment that he jumped up, he was met with a violent kick to the face.

The teen fell on to the blood-marked carpet. The two paramedics ran to his aid and the police officer held back the older man. The tears of the teen were becoming more and more apparent with each passing moment. The teen was completely speechless due to pure shock. But after only a few moments, the bloody-mouthed teen got ready to protest again.

"SOMEONE PLEASE FUCKING EXPLAIN WHAT IS GOING ON," the teen screamed though his tears. He had completely given up hope. There wasn't any point left. He was so confused. _Nothing all day had made a single lick of scene, none of it! And then this is to happen! Why?! What did I ever do?! This asshole had better explain himself,_ the teen exploded quietly to himself.

"Jason..." The teen cried though his blind anger. The older man tried to defend himself but was quickly cut-off.

"You fucking want me to die, don't you?"

"No-no I-"

"You planed all of this."

"Why would I have done this?" The older man asked quickly. It was becoming more apparent of what he was thinking. He would never plan on killing him. It was all just a very well timed event that was all! No-one was buying it though. They were all taking the side of the shaken teenager. He had the right to, but he was panicking, heavily over reacting.

But who could blame him? For all he knew, he should not be able to do any of the things that he was able to. Even breathing was all too confusing and painful to get one's head around. He had passed instant death like it was nothing. Something desperately needed to be explained now.

"Alfred you-"

"Are what?!"

The older man let go of his concerns self. "For fuck's sake! You're FINE!" He tensed as if he was getting ready to punch the teen.

Fighting everything trying to hold him down, the teen shouted. "Oh _am_ I?! Well in case you haven't noticed you cracker, I-"

"Oh let it go already! Nations can't be killed from a simple bullet you _know_ that! You're fine! Stop acting like a child an-"

The room was quite at the older man's hitch. An 'oh-shit-I-really-shouldn't-have-done-that' hitch. Now that was a rare one.

One that both men, for the sake of their lives, would quickly come to regret.

* * *

><p><strong>Gaah, I hope you all like my crappy <strong>Prologue... I swear, the rest of the story is funny. I just wanted to start with this, that's all. <strong>**

**This was originaly a RP I did with someone over Instergram, so in-turn a one-shot. But heck it. ^_^ This chapter was really hard to write, but the rest will be easer! **

**Thanks to MastermindKakashi for being my on-line editor when my mother couldn't help, it really helped to had a third person was quite helpful. :)**

**So yeah. That's it. I'm sorry if I ruined any USUK fans out there, but if you look past that, you can see at least 5 other nations in the story. I won't say who though. :3**


	2. Starting off one a good note - Chapter 1

**"THE HERO HAS ARRIVED WITH STARBUCKS EVERYONE~! - Chapter 1**

**(First person)**

**11:35 AM**

**Century****Conference Centre**

_Exactly like they all had been, today had been months in the making. It had been heavily organised, to a reasonable extent. Security was at the door to protect the many people inside the large, bustling conference room. Yesterday's rain was finally dispersing to show the beautiful, Summer-time sunshine._

"Oh shit-Oh shit, I'm so late. God, I'm going to be in so much trouble for this."

_Everyone was ready to start, and some were becoming quite restless due to the late starting nature of everything. "Is someone planning to start this meeting or what," a young, disciplined voice said growing quite impatient. He had places to be and things to do. _

_A slim, blond man got up and said to the noisy mass before him. "Ummm, sure, I will!" He said in a nervous whisper while he calmly brushed his long wavy hair away from his pale face. _

_A green-eyed gentleman looked up from his newspaper and gave off a shy smile. "All right Canada," he said in a heavy Londoner accent, "you may start this meeting." _

_The shy man opened up his somewhat aged laptop out and started fiddling with one of the cords coming out from the back of it. He cleared his throat and waited for everyone's attention to be forced onto him._

"Nearly there please don't start without me I'm so sorry."

_"Now all know the subject of the meeting is a little, touchy for most of us," he began in little more than a hard to hear whisper, followed by a few tired moans from across the room. _

_"Can't we do something else? That's boring," one of the moaners complained in unauthentic Chinese accent, backed up by a few others in the room. _

_The wavy haired teen simply rolled his eyes and gave a well-prepared 'this-is-important-China,-you-are-one-of-the-people-who-really-need-to-pay-attention-to-this' speech to his long haired responder. "So anyway..." he said with a very professional smile to the rest of the room, "I would like to start today with saying-"_

"Oh thank God I'm finally here at last." _I clenched the doorknob. I'm ready and I'm here._

_"THE HERO HAS ARRIVED WITH STARBUCKS EVERYONE~! DON'T WORRY GUYS! I'M NOT DEAD! YOU CAN ALL CALM DOWN NOW!" came a happy, overly energetic boom from behind the closed meeting room door. You could hear a few other people too, presumably the hired guards to stop this sort of thing from happening in the first place. ...But somehow failed. The agents furiously bashed the door from the outside. _

_The quiet young man cupped his startled hands against his face to hide a small, aggravated tear. "Oh God why..." he muttered, "I can't even have a few minutes in the spotlight, can I?" He complained quietly as he walked back to his seat. An attempted welcome pat on the back was given by his bleach-haired neighbour. The young man gave an annoyed and tired look towards him until he slowly stopped. "I'm RELATED to him." he sighed falling deeper into his deep red velvet chair._

_"Could be worse though."_

_"...How?" _

_"Well, at least you're not very like him I guess." he said with a shrug. What else could he say? The blonde-haired person gave a tired yawn and attempted not to make it seem rude._

_The white-haired man gave small laugh. "Rough night?" He asked. _

_The blond gave a nod. "Yeah. I had a lot of last moment paperwork to do by Friday." _

_The white-haired person looked down at his paperwork. "It's Tuesday. You have time you know."_

_The young man sighed. "Over and done with I suppose." He said with a moan drawing his attention back to the rushed intruder to finish his well-iced doughnut and vanilla frappe. After swallowing hard and sticking a rushed drawing of some sort of super-hero onto the white board behind him he began to present his 'next grand idea.'_

_"Dude, I think the World Conference can convene,"_

_"-Yes but I just-" The blond said in his defence. He did just try to start everything just before._

_"-solving all of today's problems by talking excessively!" He continued not even hearing his brother's protest, "No matter how hard it seems we can fix anything with enough meetings and photo-ops! Feel free to speak honestly while protecting your chances for re-election! I'll go first!" he laughed. "About that whole using global warming to enslave humanity thing, I think we'll be okay if we genetically engineer a huge hero and have him protect the earth- I give you; the super hero 'Globaman'!" he proclaimed quickly full of his normal hyper energy. A few people groaned at the idea, but a few just smiled and nodded. _

_"I agree with America-s-" an Asian man agreed before quickly being stop by a short, blond man in a slightly aged yet well looked after uniform. _

_"Man up or I'll beat you with my Peace Prize!" He yelled bashing his fist on the table. "That doesn't make any-" The blond gave a death stare to the black haired opposition and sat back down._

_Annoyed by the teens' 'Globaman' idea, a thicker eye browed man looked up, "There's no way some hero will help global warming or humanity's enslavement. Now cut that out." A few others agreed with him, except the longhaired man sitting a few seats away from him. _

_"Tsk." He sighed, "If Britain and America don't agree how can I be superior by dissing' them both?" _

_The eyed browed man got up and marched towards him. "I-I concur!" he shouted poking him in the head. _

_"You Frenchies sure love to hate America, why not go back to making us hot green chick statues like you used to?" said the teen after coming over to see what the two men were talking about THIS time. Snippets of "Ever since we lost our status as a world superpower condescending superiority and wine is all we have left" and "Don't be too hard on yourself, you still have mimes and body odour." soon came from them both._

_"*Sigh*, Western nations are so immature I doubt they'll ever grow up." someone else sighed. "Humm, maybe I can try appealing to the only organ of theirs that seems to work. Would you guys like to sample some Chinese tasty treat?" he smiles in a 'you-buy-this-now' sort of way. _

_The two stopped fighting momentary for a quick "We'll just get hungry again!" from both of them._

_Feeling the atmosphere, a tanned Spanish man knew a good way to hold off the fighting from both of them._ _"Hey. Why don't you say something Russia, they stop fighting if you go over and step in!" He said cheerfully to a tall pale man who was honestly trying to avoid having to fight any one today. _

_The Russian was quite surprised to hear this and slowly answered with a "What? Why me? No thanks." Giving of a fear-inducing smile, he concluded with a creepy "I want to see Lithuania get in deep trouble and come crawling back for help. Then Latvia will be right behind." _

_One of the men on IT, who just happened to be seated nearby, said a, "You're so tough. Next you'll try to pick a fight with Haiti!" ...which was rightfully ignored._

_"If you get any closer to Lithuania I'll whip out a miniature Lech Wałęsa and go all Solidarność __**[trans- Solidarity]**__ on you!" A feminine blond man came out of nowhere to stop the taller man from leaving his seat._

_The whole room was in ruckus. A wild "Please everyone, calm down!" was thrown around but it didn't have much effect. Everything was becoming crazy. _

_"Everyone shut up!" A tall, angered man commanded making the entire room go silent._

_"Germany?" the two fighting gentlemen said in unison while still gripping each other tightly. _

_The angered man continued shouting. "We've called this conference to solve the world's problems, not to fight about the problems of our past!" Everyone was too tired to argue. "And since I'm the only country who seems to know how to run a meeting, we'll follow my rules from here on out: Eight minutes each for speeches, no chit chat about side deals, and absolutely no going over the time limit! Now if you want to go make sure you're prepared and raise your hand, but do so in a way that does not mock any salutes of my country's past!" his eyes pierced the terrified room, waiting for someone to raise their hand to speak._

_"Alfie!" one of the other people in the room shouted at me._

_Ignoring it, I griped my pointer-stick-thing and waited for my chance to continue what I was saying about my awesome super-hero idea. "Alfie!" it angrily shouted again right before I finally gave in and looked up at the girl calling my name._

"Alfie!" she said for the third time looking down at me. "Oh it's just you..." I sighed as I rubbed my tired eyes and squinted at the young girl before me.

"You were sleeping _again you Oaf_."

"...I...was?" Weird. I didn't remember falling asleep at all...

"Yeah. You looked pretty involved in that little dream of yours. I couldn't wake you up." She chuckled.

"I was...?" _Had_ I been dreaming? I couldn't remember that to be honest. I can never seem to remember any of my dreams, and the ones I do are normally something stupid like dreaming about everyone being cats. I never really got those ones.

"Then wait, then why wake me now? I-"

"Lunch is finally here, if that concerns you in anyway." she said walking away with a small smile on her face. I immediately perked up. With my huge hungry eyes I must have looked starved.

"R-really?"

"Yes you deuce! Like you need it!" she said.

"Hey...Let me be hungry every one-in-a-while jeez Sydney!" I responded all offender-like. That was at _least_ a little bit uncalled for if you ask me. "I can't help it if people need food everyday..." I trailed off.

"Yeah but you had food just before Liz left." Well, she did have a point.

"Um, that was breakfast." I replied sheepishly looking down. Sydney just rolled her brown eyes. We already had a big breakfast earlier, but I guess she didn't want to argue with me any more. "C'mon." She said as I quickly searched, and finally found my dirty, grey framed glasses.

Now how would I best describe Sydney... well, she's heaps younger than me, with the best guess of her age being about 13 or so, and she has a pretty strong cockney accent going. Not that that's bad, but it is kind of weird how she say's stuff like 'water' and words like that. Syd can pull of a side ponytail, but today her curly brown hair was out over her shoulders as she led me to where everyone was probably waiting for us to get back. We always seem to get put together too, just a cases of 'similar cases so put them together', not that I'm complaining however, I quite like her company.

We walked for a bit before I stopped in my tracks. I had the weird feeling that I was forgetting something, so I turned back around towards the small meeting room that we had just been in. "What are you doing this time?" Sydney said sounding annoyed chasing me.

I did a small 360 were I was standing and looked at the centre table. "I feel like I'm forgetting something." I said quietly.

"What? Like what?" she said looking around.

I went all quiet. I had everything on me, I just- okay I don't know why I was so anxious really. "C'mon." Sydney said grabbing my hand. "Let's go."

And then we walked quickly to where Liz was without lunch.

"Ahh! There you two are!" Lizzie said with a smile opening back up her sandwich's packaging. I smiled back before she threw two overly branded paper bags.

"Calm down I'm coming!" I chuckled at them as I made my way to the table that the others were eating. "Plain bread?"

"Got ya'."

"Extra cheese?"

"Not making that mistake again," she finished with a laugh.

"Mea-"

"OH SHUT UP AND EAT YOU TWO!" Sydney interested us with a hungry death stare. I sighed and opened up the first sandwich. The others talked about girlie things, probably, and I just quickly finished my first one. It wasn't very long before I noticed that they were both looking at me.

"Maaay I help you?" I awkwardly asked them both with an open mouth full of half-chewed subway.

"Did you hear us?" Lizzie giggled looking right at me.

I blinked for a few seconds, "I did, but just in case I missed anything, please tell me everything from the start I wasn't listening." I swallowed quickly and looked down at my hand. Okay maybe I'm not the best at paying attention to things but it's not my fault if what they were talking about was probably boring. ...Yeah.

"Roderick's got a gig tonight." Lizzie said fixing her wavy brown hair.

"...The piano guy?"

Sydney rolled her eyes at me. "Yes the_ piano guy_."

"I knew that." I said quietly rubbing my eyes under my glasses. I guess I was still kinda tired. Roddy, or Roderick when you're around him because he really hates nicknames, Is a close friend of Lizzie. I'm not sure how long, but long enough to know where his is most of the time. Syd and I think that there is some sort of past chemistry between the two, but we haven't asked just yet. I remember the first time I was introduced to him actually. I remember when Liz said that he was a pianist, but though her strong accent it sounded a lot like penis. I must have given him the weirdest of all looks for the rest of that day. Even now sometimes, I am referred to as 'the guy who accidentally called Roderich Edelstein a penis'.

He has yet to let that bit go.

"What makes this one so amazing then?" I asked trying to clear my mind.

Lizzie checked her watch and said, "Well, we have about 3 hours to get ready if that helps at all." with a smile. Oh shit. That was today. We all were supposed to go and watch him play in the theatre tonight, how could I forget this?

"Alfred is still stuck in his little dream land." Sydney said taking a sip from her can of lemonade.

"Am not. I was never in one to begin with." I said coldly. "And what are you? The sleeping police?" I was strangely engrossed and already, I wasn't that hungry anymore but that didn't stop me from taking a cold eyed bite from my lunch sandwich.

"Awww~ is widdle Alfie sad about weaving his widdle dweamey wand is he?" she taunted back at me. That's it. I got up in my seat and got ready to argue agents her. She did the same.

Luckily, Lizzie stood up and stopped up just in time to stop us.

"Now, now," she said in a somewhat motherly fashion, "Fighting isn't going to active anything." We both sat back down. Normally, I'm never like this, but I guess I'm just tired. I _was_ just woken up from sleep you know. I finished my food and put my rubbish in the large, brown paper bag that it had come in.

By the time that I had come back from finding a bin that wasn't solely for paper, the other two were still only halfway through their food. I mean really. I could finish two in less time that it takes then to get half of one done. ...I guess that they had been talking, but they are still ALWAYS slow eaters.

Okay I'm just fast but is that really important? Sue me for always being hungry!

"Do you remember any of it?" Lizzie said, concentrating on her mouthful of food. Sydney opened her mouth the say something before quietly being shushed. Knowing what she was talking about, I told her no, I can never remember anything, so why would today be any exception? Sometimes I really wonder about myself and the people around me.

**xxx**

**8:56 PM That night**

**City-West Show and Concert Hall**

That evening was a little unusable to say the least. The three of us arrived almost half an hour before everything was about to start. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but since this was a premier and rich people had come, we were almost considered late. I'm really not the type of person that likes to be rushed, but I can't admit that I'm not one to rush others in my place. Yeah, I know. Kind of annoying right? Anyway, so we arrive on time, with Liz in a fancy dress making my dark jeans, converse's, and lose fitting white t-shirt look oh-so classy.

"He should be here by now..." Lizzy muttered to herself as she checked her golden watch, _8:57_. "He should be here by now." Biting her lip, she looked nervously towards the rest of the audience to see a few of its members leave in annoyance. Badly sensing the mood, I wanted to say _something_, but what? Roddy is always late getting to places, but he has never been this late for a concert before. Something must have come up. I knew it.

"I hope that nothing bad has come up." Lizzy said almost as if she could read my mind. At that same moment, someone's phone went off. _So someone didn't turn off their phone like they were supposed to._ I stood up to find the source of the noise. After being up out of my seat and probably looking like an idiot for a minute, It stopped and I head a muttered, "Hello?" coming from beside me.

"_Lizzy_..." I said with a straight face, "You know that-"

She just quickly shushed me and continued with whoever was on the end of the line. I flopped back down in my seat and watched her for a bit. "Is it Gil?" I said with-out even blinking. I've never met him in person, but I know that he is currently partnered with Liz for something for her work. He always calls her about it at the weirdest of times.

After talking, and making a small scene as she was at it, Sydney came back with her hair re-done. She gave me a glare and sat on the other side of me. Not _my_ fault that it got messed up.

The room's lights went back down and Lizzy forced herself of her phone. "What was that about?" I asked with half an eye on the stage and half on her. She sighed and told me not to worry. This was Gil on a Friday night. He'll just get drunk and forget about it in the morning anyway.

The show was as amazing as a piano performance that you were forced to go by other people can get. AKA, not very. I really shouldn't lie; I almost fell asleep if it wasn't for the hit on the head courtesy of Liz. It went overtime, as expected, and for some reason I was forced to drive home, not as expected.

_Go to bed fully clothed, wake up really tired, try to sleep in but fail, eat, do random and often pointless shit, work, dinner, seconds, bed early because I have nothing else to do._

I guess it's just a normal day for Alfred Foster Jones, missing person under the protection of the American police force.

A normal day for little, old me.

* * *

><p><strong>New chapter up and finally done! I'm really sorry that I'm slow wit up-dating, but I have school and story filler idea block sometimes. Also, If anything was confusing, I'm really sorry, but I tried very hard to make it clearer. A big thanks to MastermindKakashi for helping proof read again, It's really helpful! <strong>

**Thank you for all the story watches, faves and the review! They all mean a lot to me! *huggles***


End file.
